


Breathe

by overused_underrated



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Confessions, Declarations Of Love, Forgiveness, Gay, Love Confessions, M/M, Questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 21:53:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overused_underrated/pseuds/overused_underrated
Summary: Inspired by @yumi.comics (instagram) incredible piece: Please Lord, one more miracle/ Let him love/ Let him breathe/ For me"Aziraphale pleads to God: Please, eradicate my loneliness. Let me love, and I shall want for nothingBut will She listen?





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Please Lord, one more miracle](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/527261) by @yumi.comics. 

Every day the angel Aziraphale came to pray in the same spot. There was a small, secluded chapel at the far end of the garden. It was neither grandiose nor spectacular, as there was no need for such frivolousness. In fact, there was no need for a chapel, but the almighty had it built anyway. Perhaps, by this point, She had forgotten about it. For only Aziraphale, the Principality of Heaven, ever used it. 

The tiles lining the wall and floor were dark; deep and rich like onyx, but they were made of something entirely different. Something divine. The chamber was bare, but the emptiness was not lonely. The chapel had an indistinguishable feeling of love. Whether it came from the loving duties of the Principality and his devotion to Her, or something else, was unknown. Either way, Aziraphale felt safe there. He felt known. Perhaps that’s why he spent so much time there. 

Aziraphale wasn’t the only thing that inhabited the sanctuary. While there was no room for an altar, there was enough space for a niche. It was home to a statue of an angel: seated high, watching; presumably watching over the humans, God’s latest creation. The angel bore no name. His colossal wings lay unfurled; they were strong and heavy. His face, though, was kind. It was a kindness unknown to the young Principality. 

Aziraphale was good at his job. He loved openly, as all angels should. He cared for the humans and guarded the garden. The archangels despised him, believing him unworthy of the task- though none of them wanted it. Nonetheless, Aziraphale completed his duties without complaint or failure. When he finished his daily assignments, and after he did a final check on Adam and Eve, he stole away to the chapel. Some days, he’d spend an hour there, praying and collecting his thoughts. Other days, Aziraphale would be there til morning light and his duties awaited him. 

Aziraphale entered the chapel that day with a heavy heart. He had watched Adam and Eve together. They laughed. Smiled. They held each other. They had each other. Aziraphale walked to the center of the vestibule and knelt. “God,” his voice was low, “can I ask you, why am I alone? The other angels, up there, are. I am thankful for this task, but it makes me wonder if…” He stopped. Angels were not meant to wonder. You could fall for wondering. For asking questions. “...if I am only to love from afar.” 

The angel hung his head. Was this his life? Working endlessly, alone, forever? Questioning God? Surely not! She wouldn’t punish one as loving as him...could She? “If I may, I’d like to ask for one more miracle.” Aziraphale had never asked Her for anything. He had no reason to. He loved Her and he loved his job. He didn’t like the loneliness it came with. He raised his head, staring into the eyes of the angel before him. “Let him love, for me. Let him breathe. Let him erase the hollowness of my chest. Please...for me.” 

There was nothing but silence. She had nothing to say. “Forgive me, then.” Aziraphale remained on the floor. He would remain there until it was time for him to report for his duties. It was the least he could do- to sit and pray for his selfishness. He was not there to wallow in his own pity. He was Aziraphale: Principality of Heaven, Guardian of the Eastern Gate. He was there to keep an eye on the humans- nothing more. 

It is said that God works in mysterious ways. The truth is, She rather enjoys a show. While the angel sat, praying, God listened. She listened to the being of light she had crafted plead for forgiveness, as if asking to be loved in return was a sin.  _ Enough _ . The angel remained, kneeling on the floor of the chapel with his eyes closed. He felt a warmth inside him, but he kept praying. It was only when his chest began to burn that he opened his eyes.

There, beaming inside him, was the answer to his prayers. The angel looked in disbelief. Surely, She wasn’t serious. Aziraphale held his hands over his heart- the warm glow expelled itself from his chest and drew itself into his palms.  _ Go. _ The angel rose, still in disbelief, but a smile crept across his face. He cautiously approached the angel, taking a moment to feel the emptiness around him. Then, Aziraphale reached out and touched his right side of his angel’s face. The light traveled from the base of his hand to the center of the angel’s ear, across his forehead, and into his cheeks. Aziraphale lovingly took the left side of his face in his other hand as the statue’s hair turned from stone to a fiery red and his eyes filled with golden amber. 

Aziraphale watched as the angel he had poured his heart into transformed from sedentary stone to a living angel. His body was rigid and stiff. As the last of God’s grace left Aziraphale’s hands and entered into the angel, his body was no longer supported by his marble base. Aziraphale carefully guided the angel to the ground. His eyes had closed and his chest had not moved.  _ Breathe _ . Aziraphale cautiously inspected him, worrying his love wasn’t enough. Then, Aziraphale did the one thing he could think of: he lovingly cradled the angel’s face with his hand, leaned in, and placed a gentle kiss upon his lips. 

The angel laid still for a moment, as Aziraphale’s worry began to turn to doubt. What had he done wrong? Why wasn’t he waking? Aziraphale sat in the silence of the chapel, petrified, when the angel took his first breath. His chest expanded and collapsed, his eyes fluttered open. Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat as the angel stirred, pulling himself up to sit next to the unknown man before him. The two sat for a moment, staring at each other. It was the Principality who broke the silence, “Hi, I’m Aziraphale,” he said softly. “What’s your name?”  _ Love him, for me. Let him love as you do. Let him enjoy the world as you do. Please, for me... _


End file.
